


From Bloody Vengeance to An Uneasy Alliance

by atomic_fanfics



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Dysfunctional Family, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, Mpreg (sort of), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Rough Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans Will Graham, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a Cannibal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomic_fanfics/pseuds/atomic_fanfics
Summary: "Alana Bloom had made up her mind. She was going to hunt Hannibal Lecter down and kill him for Margot, their son, and herself. Both Will and Hannibal had been presumed dead by officials but she had a gut feeling Hannibal was still out there. After doing a lot of, albeit quite illegal snooping, she’d located the doctor to the southern French countryside..."She was prepared to kill a man but she wasn't, however, prepared to find an old friend in the process.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	From Bloody Vengeance to An Uneasy Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> Note: when I say mpreg I mean a (trans) man becoming pregnant. There will be no children coming out of assholes today, thank you!  
> Anyway, I really wanted to write about the Murder Wives hanging with the Murder Husbands and having a really awkward reunion.  
> Since Will is a trans male in this any referral to his genitals will be described as vagina/cunt/pussy/etc... and cock/penis/erection/etc... because I'm a trans man myself and use this vocab for my own body so this is a heads up for those who might be triggered by it or uncomfortable about it!

Alana Bloom had made up her mind. She was going to hunt Hannibal Lecter down and kill him for Margot, their son, and herself. Both Will and Hannibal had been presumed dead by officials but she had a gut feeling Hannibal was still out there. After doing a lot of, albeit quite illegal snooping, she’d located the doctor to the southern French countryside. Finding the house was easy, she adjusted her grip on the gun she held as she entered the house. All of it was very on point for Hannibal-- elegant, stylish, elaborate, charming. She checked the first floor, everything usual of a home but no cannibal in sight. So she snuck up the stairs to the next floor, noise coming from what she assumed to be the bedroom. She made her way to the door, unprepared for what she was about to see.

Earlier in the morning, Will Graham sat hunched over the toilet, vomiting and feeling fucking miserable-- wearing a plain yet slightly sweatstained t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. He gagged before retching again until his stomach calmed down. Hannibal stood in the doorway, watching him carefully. Will sighed, turning his head to look at his husband,

“This is all your fault you know,” he grumbled. “You just had to come inside me that one night.”

“I’m aware of that, yes. But I believe you were the one begging for me to do it.”  
Will scoffed,

“You got me there,” he got up off the bathroom floor making his way past Hannibal and back into their bedroom.  
“Thanks for putting up with my incessant vomiting and bitchy attitude by the way,” he looked at himself in the long full-body mirror in their room, making a face at his disheveled appearance and subtly bloated figure, muttering to himself about it. Hannibal came up behind him, his arms wrapping around Will’s center as he propped his chin on his husband’s shoulder,

“The price we pay for family.”  
Will made a slightly tired laugh,

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

Alana entered the bedroom, her gun trained at the ready, surveying the room and scene before her. It was a very nice bedroom she had to admit, elegant yet cozy. Unlike the other rooms in the house, this one was inhabited by two people: Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, the two men engaging in sex. It was a bit shocking to see, Will was supposed to be dead but there he was lying on his back, head leaning off the side of the large bed, naked, in the room with Hannibal between his legs that were all but up in the air. Hannibal was rough with him, fucking into him mercilessly, eliciting loud almost high pitched moans and cries from the younger man beneath him. Hannibal looked up at Alana, his face passive, as he continued to thrust inside Will-- who’d not noticed her entrance. Hannibal and she held eye-contact, there was something smug in the way he looked at her as if to taunt her. Her time with Hannibal was strikingly different than… whatever this was. Hannibal was gentle, attentive, romantic. This; this was rough, animalistic-- violent, almost. The illusion of the Doctor Lecter she used to know was completely gone, leaving his true self. As if he was allowing her to see what he was really like as a person and in bed, no lying, no manipulation, no fluff. He was allowing her to see what he was, plain and clear. She noticed dark purpling bruise marks that were seared into the skin of Will’s neck which was bared out for both Hannibal and her to see that resembled what she’d seen on victims of domestic abuse or assaults like someone had wrapped their hands around his pale slim neck and squeezed. She didn’t know what to make of it, honestly. Was Hannibal holding Will hostage? Was any of this consensual? How the fuck was Will even alive?? Alana just stared in shock and anger, offended by the curt smugness of the older man. Hannibal made no move to finish or acknowledge her yet, continuing to stimulate Will, hands roaming to the ex-agent’s stomach; caressing it lovingly almost, as his hair fell down a bit as he loomed over the man. His hand moved to Will’s tiny cock which was rather impressive for a t-cock, jerking him off until the young man came with a shout. Hannibal continued rutting into Will until he came with a small snarl. The two men stayed in position, panting. Hannibal ran his fingers through Will’s dark curly hair, pressing a kiss to his jaw before speaking,

“Hello, Alana,” he greeted the woman intruding in on their moment. Will looked up at Hannibal confusedly, before shifting to see the woman in the doorway.

“Hello, Hannibal,” she responded firmly, gun still trained on the doctor. Will looked absolutely shocked at her being there,

“Alana? What the fuck are you doing here??”

“I could say the same for you, Will,” Alana said. “Everyone thinks you’re dead, that Hannibal killed you.”

“Right, well I’m not dead and Hannibal certainly didn’t kill me either. We… actually, uh, ran away together after killing Dolarhyde, so basically, I live here. And you?”

“I came to kill Hannibal, actually,” Will nodded, looking like he expected that response,

“Do you want to talk in the kitchen, like, away from Hannibal?”

“Sure,” Alana replied but eyed Will skeptically. Hannibal pulled out of him, making him cringe. He then reached for a box of wipes on the bedside table to clean himself out before putting on the plaid flannel pajama pants and getting up to stand by his old friend at the door. He gave Hannibal a look, pointing a finger at him with an authority Alana had never seen anyone hold over Lecter before,

“Don’t fucking move,” the man and the woman went down into the kitchen. Will sighed, allowing Alana to sit down at the table as he went to the kitchen counter; voice calm and casual compared to his voice when he barked at Hannibal,  
“Coffee?”

“Depends on the coffee and its ingredients,” she stated coolly. Will laughed, nodding in understanding,

“Fortunately, I got a new unopened bag of the stuff from the market the other day, so I know this one isn’t the kind my husband makes himself.” He got to work making the coffee. Alana raised an eyebrow,

“Husband?”  
Will shrugged,

“Gay marriage is legal in France so we decided to make it official.”

“So you and Hannibal. How did that happen exactly?”

“Probably after I got acquitted from prison and went back to seeing him. It started off as just sex, we had a very rushed quickie in his office the first time. Then it sort of morphed into something else, it became a lot more than just hate-fucking. I didn’t realize I loved him until after he gutted me. It was during that whole disaster with Cordell and Mason to be exact.”

“But he turned himself in and you married Molly.”

“I was still pissed at him for what he’d done to me, Jack, to you, and,” he paused for a moment and then swallowing to collect himself,  
“to Abigail. Well, pissed doesn’t begin to even cover it. I hated him for it and I wanted to kill him but I also loved him and wanted to run away with him at the same time. So I rejected him, tried to get on with my life. I almost did until Jack roped me into the Red Dragon case and it was all downhill from there.”

“Sounds like quite the ride.”

“Yeah, it was-- it still is, honestly. I keep him from killing innocent people by finding us convicted criminals of things like rape or child abuse, we kill them, and he cooks for me using the people we kill.”

“What’s that like?”

“Cannibalism? It’s an acquired taste, I’m just probably desensitized to it now,” Will mused. He turned to Alana handing her the mug of coffee he made her. She mumbled a small thank you,

“Is he treating you alright?” she asked tentatively. “I saw the handprint on your neck. Was that Hannibal?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, it was. He’s not abusing me if that’s what you’re asking, I told him to do it,” Will admitted, a fond smile tugging at his lips. He continued on, laughing at his confession and himself when finished,  
“I discovered a while ago that I have a certain proclivity for being hurt. And you’ll never guess when I found out.”  
Alana cracked a bit of a smile at the dryness of his laugh,

“When?” she had to admit she was curious. It wasn’t like it was anything new or scandalous; they were both adults, they both knew very well trauma could manifest into sexual turn-ons and that there was no shame in talking about it. Margot and she had tried things in the bedroom that related to certain traumas they each had so it only made sense that Will would do something similar, maybe even more so than Alana and her wife.

“It’s a little fucked up, to be fair, but you as a psychologist and trauma survivor know how many weird kinks you can get from life,” Will deflected, speaking her own thoughts clearly. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before looking at her and continuing,  
“It was that night we tried to catch Hannibal and he escaped,” Alana recalled that night, remembering coming to the doctor’s house with Jack bleeding out in Hannibal’s pantry, being pushed out a window herself, and Will being butchered by a knife to the stomach.  
“I don’t know why the hell I did, but getting gutted like a goddamn fish did something to me. It hurt like a bitch, for certain, but it almost felt good in some round-about fucked up way.”

“The things we do to cope with trauma are often not considered ‘normal’ by most standards,” she nodded, sharing her own insight on the matter. Will sighed again and turned to her, his voice dropping all humor and becoming very serious,

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’re here so you can kill Hannibal to keep your family safe?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I understand why you’d do that, Alana. I don’t blame you,” he said to her.  
“But I can’t let you kill him but I can’t let him kill you or your family too.”

“We’ve come to an impasse then.”

“Supposedly. Look, I can make sure to keep him in check so that he doesn’t do anything to hurt you and Margot.”

“Thank you, Will,” Alana replied, wanting to move on with the conversation.  
“Aren’t you going to have some?”

“Huh?”

“Coffee, I mean.”

“No, I’m staying off shit like coffee and alcohol-- oh, and shellfish. I forgot about that,” Alana looked at Will, unsure for the moment, noting the specifics of the list he made,

“Dieting?”

“No, not really. Well, sort of. I’m still reeling over it, I guess,” Will scoffed. He dryly explained the situation to his friend, sounding ever-so-slightly bitter about it,  
“Someone didn’t put a condom on one night and I was too horny not to be the smart one in the situation and let him come inside me and the rest is history.”

“So you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah, it was a bit of a lapse in judgment on my part. It still sounds fucking weird admitting to it.”

“What are you planning on doing then?”

“Hannibal wants kids and I’m more than open to the concept so we’re having a Lecter Baby, I guess.”  
Alana let out a small laugh, almost choking on her coffee, Will cracked a grin too laughing with her. The two sitting in companionable silence for a moment, collecting themselves,

“How far along are you then? Will furrowed his brow, thinking,

“About thirteen weeks or so. Or as I’d like to say far enough, that I look fat instead of pregnant but not enough that it’s endearing. Any advice, one pregnant bisexual to another?”  
Alana laughed again, a little harder than before and more comfortably too,

“Honestly, be patient with yourself. You’re going to feel awful for quite a while, just try to be kind to yourself, alright, Will?”

“Those are some wise words, Doctor Bloom,” he said with a small grin on his face. The two fell silent for a moment until,

“Will?”

“Yeah, Alana?”

“Keep in touch with me, alright? I’d feel better knowing you have people to talk to about your pregnancy that’s not just a cisgender man. I know you trust Hannibal, and god knows he’s proficient in this field, but he’s never going to go through what I’ve gone through and what you’re going through now. I can leave my phone number with you if you’d like.”

“Sure, Alana,” Will said, his face warm with endearment. “Thanks. You give me your number and I’ll make sure my husband doesn’t lay a finger on you and your family.”  
Alana smiled back, putting her hand on Will’s, giving him a small nod,

“Good to know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if y'all liked this! I appreciate any validation because my insecure gay ass really needs support because I'm, well, insecure... I've just made that sentence redundant, great. God fuck me, Bro. Anyway. Thanks for reading this until the end and not dipping the second it got awkward!!


End file.
